


Malice: The Fallacy of GoGo Tomago

by Big_Diesel



Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Drama, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Femdom, Fluff and Angst, Past Abuse, Past Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Past NTR, Prostitution, Psychological Drama, Romance, Suspense, Yandere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 06:14:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7746250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Big_Diesel/pseuds/Big_Diesel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I remembered my English teacher in high school told me that "one should be careful when fighting monsters without becoming a monster yourself." Those words relished within me as it served as fuel when I attacked him with a blunt instrument that its intention was to punch holes for papers. I never was born an angel. Yet again, I was never a devil. I don't see black nor don't I see white. It is just a shade of gray for me. I felt too advanced for such entry level of working under "feared" entities. I wanted to work alone. I wanted a position of omnipotence that feared man and beast. I wanted the capability to freelance for the messiah but pursue the work of the devil. It could be vice versa, but I couldn't care. I wanted the taste of lust. I wanted to abide myself in sin. As I saw the blunt object damped in the blood of my injured teacher pitter-pattered on the floor, I tasted what I wanted: control.</p><p>This is a chapter from my story, These Grey Skies. Step into the mind of GoGo!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Malice: The Fallacy of GoGo Tomago

**Author's Note:**

> This story is an excerpt from the chapter of These Grey Skies. Step into the mind of GoGo!

I remembered my English teacher in high school told me that "one should be careful when fighting monsters without becoming a monster yourself." Those words relished within me as it served as fuel when I attacked him with a blunt instrument that its intention was to punch holes for papers. I never was born an angel. Yet again, I was never a devil. I don't see black nor don't I see white. It is just a shade of gray for me. I felt too advanced for such entry level of working under "feared" entities. I wanted to work alone. I wanted a position of omnipotence that feared man and beast. I wanted the capability to freelance for the messiah but pursue the work of the devil. It could be vice versa, but I couldn't care. I wanted the taste of lust. I wanted to abide myself in sin. As I saw the blunt object damped in the blood of my injured teacher pitter-pattered on the floor, I tasted what I wanted: control.

My story began where it should have ended. I was conceived in a "lovely" hotel in the atrium of Tokyo's Central District. You know the location of gyaru, cheap hookers, pimps, and the cesspit of hopelessness and despair where the other destitute of society called home? Yeah, it was in one of those formidable domiciles. My mother, poor bastard, was a multi-divorcee who had nothing to prove, but the prowess of her womanhood. What she couldn't do in regular work, she used the power of her body as her profession. Guinness couldn't keep up with her. In the multitude of divorces, separations, prenuptials and alimonies, and the wrecked homes that she deemed responsibility without any qualms or malice. Anyway, back to the point, it was that seedy hotel where she made another tally with a businessman. He was your typical fresh-off-the-boat Japanese businessman, returning to his home country on business looking for company. You would've thought that once she was done with him, she would have moved on and found another sucker. She didn't. That pale drink of water had spent multiple occasions with my mother. He paid for her apartment, purchased her a vehicle, and gave her a private phone for their rendezvous.

I have never met the man, but according to my mother, once reminding me in a drunken stupor and beating me with a belt, she said that he was the best man any woman could ask for. The old bitch thought she was in a love with a man who had obviously couldn't give a damn. He had to be married. What they did was private. I couldn't imagine what she was going through as she thought that that was going to be the man of her dreams. Like all good things, they came to an end. In a café, she broke the announcement that would make any man fled, she was pregnant. And of course, he asked about protection and the tirade of her on the pill. Her obtuse smile I pictured thought that the man would take responsibility and leave his family in America and stay in Japan with the wretch.

Like a thief in the night, he fled from the café where she stood alone; while a crowd of onlookers smirked at the charade. My mother should have known that there wasn't going to be a happy ending, especially for a prostitute. As a consolation, better yet a penance, she saw a brown envelope in her mailbox. In it, the contents were 2 million yen in 10,000 yen notes and a yellow piece of paper noting: **have an abortion or raise the child. Your choice.** Of course, she chose the latter or else I wouldn't be alive to tell you the tale couldn't I?

On a hot and muggy Tokyo evening, my mother gave birth to me in the middle of a gangway. How wonderful to begin your existence in the piss and feces infested alleyway. It happened during a prostitution deal gone wrong. Could you believe it? My dear mother was selling herself while pregnant. I know that you wouldn't find that kind of advice from any parenting magazines.

From the moment I entered this world, my life was entangled in chaos, despair, degradation, and most of all, hate. She did the bare minimum that needed for motherhood. If she was there, she fed me and changed me, and left me in the crib from times on end. The amount of diaper rashes I had from being left all night while she partied or fucked a complete stranger. She had no family or family who wouldn't claim her. It was me and her. On some nights, she begrudgingly took me to some of her conquests. I was three at the time. There were many businessmen at the hotel expecting and waiting anxiously on her show. She put me in the bathroom and told me to not leave until she told me to. Like any child, I yearned for my mother. When I walked out, I witnessed the first of many things that were in the plan in the makings of GoGo. I saw bald, middle-aged men taking turns entering my mother. She was around their age, but she had young features. Don't ask why I am inputting this now, but I saw them giving my mom a "gray and muddied shower." The moment was engrained in my head for the rest of my days.

Starting grade school, she stopped prostituting and turned into an amateur porn actress. I will be very cautious for the lack of the word, actress. She starred in her own works and released it via the black market. Her sleazy boyfriend/pimp was responsible for marketing the tapes. Every day without end, all I heard from my bedroom was the sound of men taking turns with my mother. If it wasn't with other men, it was her boyfriend. On rare occasions, she had her fun with women. That went on for a few years until she had her accident.

She had a car accident when I was six years old. It was the same old blue Saab that her former lover gave her. As a child, I was precocious and impressionable. I wanted to do things that pleased my mom. All I wanted from her was her affection. We were on the highway and I asked her could we go to the store to buy a toy. She told me no. I asked again and she screamed no. Mad and upset, I screamed and yelled until she slapped me across the face. The slap caused her to lose her grip and she ran off the road. The car landed on the embankment. She was seriously injured and I barely had a scratch, physically that was. That was the first time I ever got slapped by my mother. It was also the beginning of the torture coming from mommy dearest.

The accident left her injured and unable to work. Her amateur porn days were over. Her boyfriend took all of her savings and fled town. The Saab was a wreck and inoperable. The only thing she had was a phonebook of hospital bills and me, all of which she put the blame. She called me the succubus. I get people to look at me with good looks and then take everything away from them. She said I should have been a stain in the hotel room. I cried as I ran out of the hospital. I wished that I was a stain on the floor also.

After the accident, we left Tokyo and moved to Yokohama. I was excited because we were closer to the sea and going to a new school. After recovering, my mother found a job working as food packing employee for a frozen food company. It was part time work, but better than being a street walker. We stayed in a small studio apartment. I didn't like how it smelled. It reminded me of a wet dog smell. It didn't matter because I was happy to be far away from Tokyo. I hated that city. I had hoped that all of this would change my mom, or so I thought.

She worked in the night, unable for me to see her. I stayed home alone. I stay home alone for many days. Television became my mother and it taught me how to raise myself. I got myself up for school; washed my own clothes; and cooked my own food. To think that a seven year old could do it. I had no choice. We were on welfare and received checks. A portion of my allowance went on taking care of me. The neighbors watched me make my trek to the grocery store weekly on getting items. Instead of pitying me, they laughed at me and my mother. Because we were poor, we were subjected to the abuse of the upper class. One of the many disadvantages of being Japanese, it showed itself when I was at school. They picked on me. They talked about how much I smelled or how I looked. They used to throw milk cartons at me or they would call me rotten eggs. The word, rotten eggs, became an insignia I despised. They continued to call me that name until that day in the fifth grade.

I had a crush on this boy. His name was Yukihiro Kanaye. I thought he was one of the most attractive boys I have ever met. At an age I couldn't understand my hormones, but I knew what gender I was interested in. He was in the third grade. I was two years his senior. I was shy and I wanted to make sure that he paid attention. During gym, I would watch him and stare. I hope that he noticed me. I loved his smile, his laugh. He was just adorable. I didn't know that my simple crush was developing into an attraction, or rather an obsession.

One afternoon, I received a letter from my cubby at school. In a small pink envelope that smelled of strawberries, it was a letter from my love. He told me that he wanted to meet me behind the school shed after school the next day. I was excited and was anticipating his meeting. The night before, I ran to my mother as she got off work to tell her the good news. However, she greeted me with a smack across my face and to get away from her. I ran as I felt the sting of her slap and the hot tears from my face. I went into the bathroom. I saw a red mark with an open wound. I got a washcloth and wiped the mark, but the cut was present. Scared that Kanaye-kun would find out, I applied makeup on it.

The next afternoon, I waited behind the shed as instructed on my Kanaye-kun. A half hour passed and there was no Kanaye-kun. Suddenly, from behind came two of my classmates. Their names were Kanae Misato and Melissa Noroguchi. These bitches were the vain of my existence. The duo gave me hell and there was never a moment's rest. The pair confronted me for actually taking part of their penalty game. They knew that a sucker would fall for that letter. I remembered Misato-san, the leader, said that I was a pervert for crushing on a younger boy. Her sidekick Noroguchi-san agreed as she chuckled and pushed me to the ground. Misato-san joined Noroguchi-san as they kicked me. They called me poor and pathetic. They called me rotten eggs over and over. Suddenly, I felt a switch hit me. I thought about the times that my mother hit me; the times where I felt nothing but loneliness; and the harassment I faced at school daily. The sunny sky turned dark that day when I saw my youthfulness fade away and entered the feeling of hate. It filled my veins and suddenly a new being was formed.

As I was being hit, I saw a loose brick by the bush. With all of my might, I grabbed the brick. I took Noroguchi-san by the leg and tripped her. I went on top of her with my brick in my hand. Her eyes protested no, but I smiled as I beat her several times against the head with the brick. I didn't stop until I saw blood splattered around my hands. I didn't stop there. Misato-san stood in horror. I saw a puddle of urine around the scared Misato-san. It matter not as I gave her the same medicine. Once I was finished, I dropped the brick. I stood there as I realized what I have done. I felt power. I had control. Earlier they were picking on me and now they were begging for their lives. I walked away from the scene and around the corner, I saw my beloved Kanaye-kun. He was trembling and I knew that he saw what I have done. But I didn't want to hurt him. I loved him and I wanted to shower him with my love. I took him with my bloodied hands and we went inside of the shed. I told him that we were going to play a game. It was there where I tasted womanhood for the first time.

It wasn't long until my mother got word of what happened. That evening, I was taken in handcuffs and headed for the police station. I was interrogated by police officers, but I didn't hear much. Kanae Misato suffered a broken jaw and went blind in one eye. Melissa Noroguchi suffered partial brain damage. She lost hearing in one ear. They feared that her brain damage was permanent. That news didn't bother me as much when I found out my beloved's parents were there as well. My beloved told his parents of our private game we shared. I wasn't mad at him. He didn't know better. Still, I was fingerprinted and spent several days in juvenile hall.

If the newspaper ever tells you that I was expelled from school because I stabbed a girl with a pencil over a boy, don't believe it. That was why I was grateful for being a juvenile. They believe that our brain processes are at work and we don't know better. We should get rehabilitation for redemption in order to have a better life. Yeah right, poor fools. If I were in America, I would be doing numbers, if you catch my drift. The parents settled out of court and I was expelled from school. I walked out of that classroom into school after school in prefectures after prefectures until I was fourteen years old.

I dropped Leiko Tanaka and became the moniker of my childhood days, GoGo Tomago. The tomago in my name is the Japanese corruption of the word, egg. I appreciate Kanae and Melissa for their induction. I wondered how they are. After their meeting with Mr. Brick, I can believe that they have changed for the better, or for the worse. I don't care. They could hang themselves from the Tokyo Dome for all it was worth.

My mother and I settled in the city of Utsunomiya in the Kanto region of Tochigi Prefecture. I have lost count on how many schools that I have attended and how many towns I have lived. Whatever place I go, I raised hell. I, no longer, wanted to be told nothing. I became the youthful rebel that my mother even feared. No longer did she lay a hand on me. At moment's notice, it was I that went from prey to predator. She found a job selling fried pan dumplings at a local vendor in the mall. It was full time and it kept her busy. I was supposed to be in school. I attended, but I spent more days in detention or homebound for suspension.

At home, I turned my room into my office. It became a headquarters. I enlisted a few of my goons that I met in my neighborhood to assist me in my affairs. A diverse group of men and women they were. It was mostly Japanese, but included Korean, black, and Indian members. I didn't discriminate against race for it was the power in numbers. We started with illegal gambling. My goons would hassle the local pachinko venue for the slice of the action. If they refused, they received a blunt facelift. When that wasn't enough of a hustle, we got involved with petty theft. You know, stealing motorcycles, bicycles, snatching purses and stealing wallets. We made one policy about theft—no credit cards. I didn't want any reason for a paper trail. One of my goons, Torrance, became my sidekick. Before moving to Japan, he was well-known for hustling back in his native Chicago. I liked him because he had a business mindset. I never had him once do any dirty work. And at 17, he knew the game like he was going on 30. He talked with many delinquents of the prefecture's high schools and made deals with them. He made their business like a credit union. He also established the tribute policy to give us a piece after they put in work.

He was really special to me because he was the one that put me on with the Shikei-otaku, a bosozoku set of the Yakuza. When we formed an alliance with them, business was booming. We kept our operations at my home. My mom didn't ask questions and if she did, I laughed at her for thinking she was going crazy or I hit her senseless. I didn't feel sorry for the bitch. I am just giving her just desserts. Weekly, I earned over 20 million yen. I was making more money than anybody in the neighborhood. I gave my portion to the crew, to the Shikei-otaku, and to the Yakuza. All parties were pleased with our operation. You have to understand that a fourteen year old girl running a business and having an associate that was African American was a rarity. Like all things, it was nothing surprising that I caught attention from the law.

My first official arrest as a criminal occurred when I was 15 years old. I, Torrance, and some other goons were caught trying to steal motorcycle parts. We were arrested and processed. They wanted to deport Torrance, but because his family became Japanese citizens and of his age, he was let off with a warning. My other goons were released. However, I was a different story. My track record from my old days was catching up with me. I spent three weeks in prison. After giving my mommy dearest a sob story on my second chance for redemption, she got bail money and I came home. I used that line over numerous times after multiple arrests.

Later in the year, my work caught the attention of the leader of my city's local Yakuza set. He was a charismatic kind of guy and somewhat egotistical. His name was Nao Watanabe. He was 26 years old at the time, and one of the youngest leaders of the Yakuza. He appreciated me for not folding on my crew. He rewarded me by introducing me to the world of the Yakuza.

I left the grunt work to Torrance and began to enter the adult's game. Nao showed me great leadership as he took me under his wing. He knew that I had great potential on becoming a notorious gang leader. I dropped out of school and began putting in work. I won't get too in-depth, but it did involve robberies of local businesses, arson, grand theft auto, grand larceny, and ironically, establishing a black market of selling illegal uncensored pornography.

I left my mother's corrugated shack and moved into a condo in the city. I became my own woman. Trust me; I shared the wealth with Torrance and my crew. I asked Nao could I allow Torrance into the set. He couldn't fully join because he wasn't Japanese, but Nao was grateful on how calculated Torrance's techniques were. We were making money. I went from having one condo to several condos. I owned several vehicles. I had bank accounts and even sent some overseas in America if the worst case could occur. Every night, we would go to bars and rent the places. We were constantly drunk and singing karaoke until the sunrise. While my crew had the women, there were guys on me as well. To be honest, they were not my type. What I was interested in was a secret that no one should know, not even Torrance.

On my free days, I would frequent the playground of middle schools. I wouldn't say or do anything. I would watch. Out of the blue, I came across a boy who reminded me of Kanaye-kun. His name was Hiroe Nagase. He was in his second year of middle school and he was plain smitten with me. He never had a woman like me and I assured that it was something that he would ever forget. He became my boyfriend. I did love him, or at least I thought I did. I cared about him dearly, but I wasn't the kind of girl that could settle for one. On some, rather many, I had small rendezvous with other boys. They were kids from the neighborhood who were curious in older girls like myself. I wasn't doing anything wrong. I was 15 years old, so they couldn't label me as a pedophile. Anyway, I gave them the taste of womanhood. It was enjoyable.

One day, Hiroe found out and he wanted to end it with me. I asked for forgiveness and told him that what we have was special. The other boys were sex, but what we have was love. He wasn't having it and he left. To him, he ended the relationship. To me, it wasn't over. I loved Hiroe and he was mine. To ensure that, I told my crew that if any girls were to talk with Hiroe, they were to be made an example out of. And don't worry, nothing bad happened. However, the girls who came across my wrath either left school, left the prefecture or becoming acquainted with our local therapist.

Everything was gone fine. On my 16th birthday, my crew gave me the biggest birthday party of my life. It took place at a nightclub in Tokyo, my old stomping grounds. It was beautiful and many were in attendance. I wanted to cry when I saw my name, written in gold letters, lighting the stage. I have made to the top, to the level of upper echelon. We celebrated and toasted. The days of eating instant noodles, dried artichoke, and miso soups were dead. The days of eating steak, shrimp, lobster, and drinking wine every day became a normal routine. We were hungry and we put in work.

The days following my sixteenth birthday were the numbered days of our immortality. Two weeks later, my associate and best friend, Torrance went missing. We search for several days until he was found beheaded off the Tohoku Expressway. According to his autopsy, he was beaten and tortured. His head was found a few days later in front of his parent's home. It was in a box, wrapped in a pretty pink bow. Then some of my crew members were arrested or murdered. I did not know what was going on and I became fearful of my life. Not taking any chances, I fled to my mother's house.

If you guys made it this long enough to read this, then I guess you are curious on why things went south. My weakness became my downfall. It was about my beloved Hiroe Nagase. I made it loud and clear that he was mine and I wasn't going to do anything to change it. One evening, before the beginning of my downfall, the child came to my house and confronted me. He was angered that I wouldn't let him have any romance in his life. I have explained to him that he belonged to me. He was my property. I didn't care about the amount of guys I have been with, but he have to understand that he was mine. I tried to soothe him with a kiss, but he didn't want it. He told me to get away from him and he wanted to leave, but I grab his hand. I had it in a firm grip. I didn't want to hurt him. I wanted to scare him. My anger didn't receive that. Once I regain my conscience, my hands were tightly gripped around Hiroe's neck and the life was taking out of him.

I dropped to the floor. I killed a man that I actually loved. I cried and screamed for him to wake up, but to no avail. His eyes rolled in the back of his head and his face was turning blue. Crying and praying for his forgiveness, asking the gods for him to wake up. I wanted to start over again. I was making promises that I would be loyal to him only. But my prayers weren't answered. In a panic, I contacted Torrance about what happened. He came to my aid and told me that we have to rid the body. He had some drugs and injected him into his system, making the police think it was a drug overdose. We carried the body into his car. We drove for an hour as we left the city. The entire ride, I sniffled and stroked his hair. I was giving him soft, feathery kisses. I hope that he would wake up, but he didn't. He just got colder and stiffer. Later, Torrance found a suitable forest where we can dump the body. He placed gently against the tree. I placed my final kiss on his lips and we left.

I soon discovered that Hiroe Nagase was the son of Hirofumi Nagase, a politician who had ties with the Yakuza. Also, Hiroe was the nephew of my mentor, Nao Watanabe. I couldn't tell you how they discovered, but the aftermath could explain it all.

I stood in my old bedroom in fear wondering when they were coming for me. The power I lusted and controlled was fading away. For the first time, I was feeling weak. All of this pent up energy was fading away. Then I heard the dreadful knocks on the door. I knew by the way the door was knocking, they were gang members. I peaked from my window and saw two men. They were my friends, my colleagues. I hoped that there were not the executioners of my final act. However, they did not do anything. They told my mom that I have 24 hours to leave Japan, or else they would kill me. One of the guys gave me a gang sign as I saw from the window. The sign meant that I am no longer part of the Yakuza. If I didn't leave Japan that night, I am a dead girl.

In less than 24 hours, we were on a plane heading to America with the clothes on our back. My mom gave me a stare that she hasn't done to me since that car accident. I couldn't give a damn on what she thought me. She should grateful that we were going somewhere instead of being six feet under. My mother had a family friend leaving in Seattle. Secretly, I have visited America on multiple occasions. I have been to New Orleans, Los Angeles, New York City, Houston, and Honolulu—frequent Yakuza turfs to discuss business. I have never been to Seattle, so this was going to be new to me.

After a month, we settled in Seattle's Rainer Beach. My mom chose the area because it reminded her of home. She was able to find a job as a Japanese-speaking operator at a telephone company. As for me, I had to return to school. It was per request of my mother. She told me to keep appearances and I owe her for the pain I put her through. I like Seattle, but it was too slow for me. Everything was weak. The alcohol, the drugs, everything. I knew that most of the product we received came from America, but the potency of the vices here was bullshit.

On the first day of attending high school, I was already in the pissed off mood. I was 16 years old taking ninth grade class. Because I dropped out of school, the school placed me where I was left off. I was embarrassed. When I was in my Freshman English class, the teacher had the nerve to be disrespectful. I gave him a lesson that he would never forget. I was arrested and spent a few days in juvenile hall. I have never done time with juvenile hall in America and it was quite different. On the first night, there was this board who wanted me to be her bitch. I made her have a date with the bottom of my bunk and gave her a California Sunshine with my foot. Because it was self-defense or at least that was what she said, I was released the following day.

The next week, I was put into a new school. The principal received a sob story from me about my home life and my transition into this new country that she placed me in right grade, the eleventh grade. The school was fine. The teachers didn't bother me and neither did the student. It was safe to assume that some were getting my reputation from the last school and from juvenile hall. I liked the school, but I got expelled there as well. There was this cute kid in my Algebra 2 class. Let's just say that we were trading more than math equations in the girl's bathroom.

After the second incident, I was sent to an alternative school. That school was bullshit also. It was supposed to be therapeutic. Then why in the hell was it a never-ending hell of fighting. I think Americans are using these conventional terms very loosely or euphemistically. I was sent to a therapist. I don't remember much, but they said that I suffered from a split personality disorder. They even mentioned that I was a sexual deviant. That was nonsense. I am just showering them with love. If that is the standard of deviancy, then the DSM-IV can go fuck itself.

However, I didn't last long there either. I didn't do anything at school. I was arrested for robbery. I held a corner store at knifepoint, demanding money. I was bored and needed something to do. I wanted money and the power that I earned during my days in Japan. This quaint and quiet life was not for GoGo Tomago. I was arrested and spent three months in jail. About a month into the sentence, I was sentenced to an additional six months. A parent came to police about their middle school child coming home crying from one of our private games. It was hard to find boys who were cool with our games.

After spending eight months in jail, I was finally released. When I returned home, my mother welcomed me with an eviction notice. I was no longer welcomed in her home. I left Seattle and began another era of hitchhiking and finding my place in the world.

I hitchhiked through Washington State. I spent time with wanderers, truck drivers, and even a hippie commune. For a few months, I traveled to Oregon, Nevada, Idaho, Montana, and eventually I made to San Fransokyo. Broke and nowhere to go, I ended at a Youth hostel. It was more a group home, but I wanted something to make it feel better. One night, I looked into the sky and thought about my future. I remembered how I was crying about my current predicament. I went from rags to riches to rags. I had it all. I was making money, putting in work, and enjoying the good life. Now, I have been imprisoned, homeless, and lying on a thin bed. I knew right then, that I was at my bottom.

A few months later, when I was eighteen years old, I was relaxing on the bleachers in the gymnasium. It was my perfect time to go hunting for a boy who I can shower with my love. However, there was a gentleman who was in my way. He was very handsome. He was my age, a first honestly. He gave him some glares, giving him hints that he should come into my direction. After several attempts, it worked. I kept it cool as he came my way. My heart was fluttering for the first time in awhile when the name Tadashi escaped from his lips.

I smiled as I hid my eyes behind my purple streaks. I can tell he was naïve by the way he approached me. He was in college and he was beginning his sophomore year in the fall. He had a nice smile and his teeth were the whitest it could be. He was different from the boy I used to fancy. He sat down with me and he wanted to know my reason for being here. I did something that I have never done. I told him the truth. Well, sparing the gory details of my Yakuza past and my affairs with boys.

Tadashi Hamada became a part of my life. Every day after practice, he would spend time with me. Surprisingly, he never flirted with me or made any advances with me. All he wanted to do was talk. So, we would talk for hours. Sometimes it would be small chit-chat and then we would discuss our personal matters. We kept going until he offered me something that I couldn't refuse; a place to live.

I moved in with Tadashi into his apartment. It was very small, but cozy. He slept on the couch while I slept on his bed. I was enamored by the softness of his bed and how it smelled. It smelled of a man, someone who knew where he is going. Once he felt comfortable, he introduced me to his friends at the laboratory at San Fransokyo Institute of Technology. They were hesitant, but they took me in.

In a matter of months, I completed my general equivalency exam and enrolled into college. With my expertise in my former life, I enrolled in engineering. The crew would laugh to see GoGo Tomago in college and enjoy it. I went to rehab and went to therapy. Tadashi gave me money and allowed me to stay in his house. It was a fresh start. The move I spent time with him, the more I became in love with him. However, this kind of love was different. All of the love I had before then was lust. However, Tadashi was something special. The only thing that he wanted from me was my devotion. I granted him that wish on our first date.

In time, I met his Aunt Cass. She was a beautiful middle-aged woman. With her beauty, you couldn't tell that she had two nearly grown nephews. I thought that it was great that she worked at a café. It sounded very humble. Then, he introduced me to another family member. This person would become the man who once again reopens my thirst of lust, power, and control. The adorable bundle of joy was Tadashi's younger brother, Hiro. Hiro hid behind his Aunt Cass. At 15 years old, he was shy and adorably dorky. I came and approached him with a smile. I winked at him to show that he had nothing to fear. I smiled at him and that kind of made an icebreaker.

Hiro was enrolled in community college. A high school graduate at 13 years old, he could have gone to SFIT. However, he was through rebellion and wasn't ready for college. As a deal, his aunt told him that he must enroll in school. And community college he attended. I saw his eyes and they were very beautiful. Reminded me of Kanaye-kun several years in the past, he actually looks like him. Old things were returning and my instincts were feeling them.

Throughout time, I became adjusted to the Hamada family. I have spent many nights with them. I, sometimes, helped Aunt Cass with cooking. I would play with her cat, Mochi. On some nights, I would help Hiro with his homework. We have spent many nights alone in his room. The intent was to help him out with his schoolwork, but I had other desires that were not in the school curriculum. But, I fought my urges. I was in love with Tadashi. Why would I betray the man I love with cheating? That wasn't right.

My relationship with Tadashi was becoming a serious relationship. We sealed the deal after we made love for the first time. It was a spectacular evening. Everything was perfect and he was perfect. When he told me that I was his first, I covered in kisses, reminding him that it was an honor to give me. I would make sure I would cherish it. Throughout time, he became an open book and in return, I did the same. We laughed, we cried, we angered, and we loved. Everything was smooth.

One evening, Tadashi took me back to the youth hostel while my life was reborn. The gym was closed, but he made a table reserved for two. We sat together while he made a meal that was out of love. We danced and serenade. Tadashi had a way with women, and it was made apparent when he gave me a precious gift any woman would go mad. I trembled in excitement as he got down on one knee to propose marriage. I was on Cloud 9. Nothing bought me great joy becoming Leiko Tanaka.

The next day, we went to the café to make our announcement. We invited all of our friends and his family to tell them the good nights. Before he could speak, I presented the ring of our love that made Aunt Cass and Honey Lemon bedazzled in excitement. While the gentlemen were congratulating their comrade, Hiro sat there alone. He looked like a lost puppy. My eyes were on him once again. Thoughts enter my mind, telling me to do something horrible to him. It was lust again and I was starving. I felt like a succubus, insatiable lust and Hiro was the target. Once again, I did my best to suppress my urges. I was in love with Tadashi I kept telling myself.

As time went on, the urges were calling my name. I averted my eyes when a sight of a beautiful young boy was in my direction. Eventually, all of these boys were looking like Hiro. I thought I could suppress my urge by going to a ladies' bar. But it didn't work. I went to a gay strip club, but that didn't work. At night, I was up; the urge of a young boy was creeping on me like a veil. I looked at Tadashi and I shed a tear. I whispered my apology. As much as I love him, his love was not enough for my succubus appetite. When I saw Hiro, I knew then and there that **I wanted that boy.**

When I studied with him, I made subtle hints. I would rub against him or rub his back affectionately. His eyes lit like a Christmas tree. He knew that I was coming on to him. But that was the farthest that I went. One afternoon, I went to the youth hostel and ask a couple of boys if they were looking for some fun. I won't be descriptive, but the hotel saw me more than I did Tadashi. Once again, I loved him and I wanted to marry him. But there were certain urges that Tadashi couldn't do to satisfy me. I asked for forgiveness, but I wanted more.

I enjoy the lust and the passion of the beautiful young boys, but it wasn't enough. They were stand-ins for my main dish, Hiro Hamada. Some nights, I spied on him. I took pictures of him in his home while he exposed himself to the moon. I won't tell secrets of how I did it from the second floor, but I did it. I followed him when he went on illegal bot-fighting. I couldn't believe that he would lie to my precious Tadashi, his brother. However, he wasn't there for bot fighting. My eyes turned into anger when I saw that he was meeting with another girl. I gripped tightly around my cell phone, having to witness with some harlot skank wanting to take away my Hiro. I followed him on other nights and I saw that he was seeing multiple girls. Hiro wasn't as innocent as he made himself out to be. It only made this succubus hungrier.

At the end of the day, I put all of my precious treasures in the cupboard. It was my secret spot in which I can be myself. No one, including Tadashi, would ever know what I do behind the scenes. He must not know about the shrine I made for his brother or the amount of pictures and videos I keep as my treasures.

However, a little time before Tadashi's death, something was in the air. Tadashi didn't look at me in the same way. His smiling face faded away upon me seeing him. We stopped having sex. We eventually stopped sleeping together. He started to barely come home. He would say that he was busy at the office or he didn't want to disturb me in my sleep. I knew all of those were lies. I was getting a suspension that he knows about my secrets. I didn't want to jump to conclusions. I wasn't doing anything wrong. I loved him. I loved Tadashi and I was going to get married to Tadashi. I am Mrs. Tadashi Hamada, rather or not he wanted to happen.

His death hit me like an impact of a car crash. We were all there to witness the final moments of Tadashi before the explosion on that fateful day. I went straight home and began ravishing the apartment. I went rampant and screamed out the name of my love as the dust settled. I sat on the apartment floor and began sulking. However, another thought hit my mind—Hiro. I went into the cupboard and went to my shrine. I went to the pasted walls of my beloved Hiro's pictures. In the center was the family portrait of Hiro. I kissed it and I licked it. My hidden valley was moistened by the impact. With a pair of one of his stolen boxer shorts, I masturbated to Hiro. While I was still whimpering for Tadashi, I was moaning and laughing for Hiro. I can love both. I can be Tadashi's husband and I could be Hiro's mistress. We can all be happy.

My mind told me to torture and rape Hiro until he becomes my pet. I wanted Hiro to be my pet. I wanted to love him, to shower him, to abuse him, to rape him, to protect him, and to control him. Following the funeral, I screamed on the inside when I finally kissed Hiro. I tasted his lips that I stole from him. He tasted of orange soda. The first day of training Hiro to become my pet was sealed with a kiss. **I am going to make sure that you pay for this, little brother.** Now, you know why I targeted Hiro. I wanted him from day one. His existence alone was enough for my love.

As you make your conclusions, you might think to yourself that I am a bad person. You may be right. At this point, I don't care. I wasn't born with a silver spoon, but on a pissy, God-forsaken alley in the middle of Tokyo. My mother wasn't there to kiss my boo-boo's. She greeted with her hands and her fist. No one taught me love. I learned through the hands of pornography or watching my mother. I never had a father and I raised myself. Take a walk in my shoes before you place any judgment toward me.

Anyway, this is the end of my thoughts. I am about to climax inside of my Hiro. If girls could impregnate men, that would be very exciting. Glad you guys could read the mind of GoGo Tomago. Take care and goodbye! Kisses!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. If interested, please read These Grey Skies. Thanks!


End file.
